Seduced by a Scoundrel - By Barbara Dawson Smith Page 0,45
snatched back her hand, but she could still feel the hard smoothness of muscle imprinted on her palm.
Feigning indifference, she swung away and surveyed the large chamber. For all its size, it was surprisingly inviting, with books piled on mahogany tables and wild landscapes decorating the walls. The shutters were closed against the dawn. The only light came from a low fire on the hearth and a branch of candles on the bedside table.
Her gaze fixed on that broad bed. The linens were rumpled, and the pillow bore the imprint of his head. He must have been lying there. Odd that he wasn’t clad in nightclothes.
Sauntering to the foot of the bed, he leaned against the post and idly jingled the ring of keys. His mouth slanted into a grin more wicked than that of the devil himself. “Well, well. I did predict you’d come to me in my chamber before the season was out.” He studied her from her sleep-tangled braid down to her small bare toes. “And here you are, all ready for bed.”
Her cheeks went hot. His scrutiny made Alicia aware of herself as a woman—his wife. He could do with her as he willed. He could force her onto the bed, kiss her, subdue her with his superior strength. Uneasiness lurked low in her belly, a feeling she scorned. Irksome man. The high-necked white robe covered her more completely than a ball gown.
“I am here to have a word with you,” she began.
“If you mean to confess your unrequited passion, my darling, then pray proceed.”
Such conceit. She would relish knocking him off his high perch. “It is not I we are here to discuss, but you. Your behavior.”
He slapped a hand to his bare chest. “I’ve been a paragon of propriety. A veritable vision of virtue.”
“Not with Yates.”
“Yates?” A faint annoyance crossed his features. “I told you not to pester her. She’ll do her job, and you do yours.”
Alicia clenched her fingers into the silk of her robe. She would not allow him to rob her of her rights in this house. Nor to pretend ignorance. “The true question is, what will you do with her?”
His black eyebrows lowering, he tossed the ring of keys onto the bed. They landed in his blankets. Right where Alicia was loath to venture. “For pity’s sake,” he said, “stop speaking in riddles. If you’ve something to say, then say it.”
Her gaze snapped from the keys to his face. “All right, then. Yates is your doxy.”
He stood unmoving, his face blank. She could see the peppering of whiskers along his jaw. His untidy state made him appear even more depraved. Abruptly, he burst out laughing, the hearty sound filling the chamber. “So that’s what you imagine while lying in your virgin’s bed.”
“It is no flight of fancy.” Annoyed that he could make purity sound like a fault, Alicia stepped toward him. “The woman has been nothing short of insolent. And there can be only one reason why she feels safe to voice her unbridled opinions to the lady of the house. Because she knows the master will not reprove her.”
“Tell me exactly what she said to you.”
“It is not worth repeating.”
“I will hear what she said. So that I may judge for myself if you are too quick to take offense.”
A flush stung Alicia’s cheeks. “She said … I am too high and mighty to share your bed.”
His dimples deepened, though he didn’t precisely smile. “I see.”
“No, you don’t see.” Prodded by resentment, Alicia edged toward the bed, the carpet soft beneath her bare soles. “The only way she could know that we have a chaste marriage is by your telling her.”
“Bosh. The servants can guess we don’t engage in marital relations. They change the linens, don’t forget.”
Alicia aimed a mystified frown at him. What in the world did that mean? She suspected he would laugh at her again if she asked him to explain.
She inched a little closer to her goal. “Well. I won’t tolerate your philandering in this house—with Yates or anyone else. If you wish to carry on your affairs, then do so elsewhere.”
The wretch smiled, as if she were a child to be humored. It was now or never. Darting to the four-poster, she scooped up the ring of keys. With the cold hard metal clutched to her bosom, she turned to leave.
Only to discover that he’d moved with catlike stealth to block her path. “If the truth disturbs you,” he purred, “then make her a